


Drunk Girl

by emac87



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-07-31 14:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20116492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emac87/pseuds/emac87
Summary: A collection of one shots that all connect to each other in one way or another, and all inspired by a song or two.Murphy saves the girl.Bellamy talks Murphy down.Lexa would do it all over again even knowing the outcome





	1. Drunk Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Take A Drunk Girl Home by Chris Janson

College towns are notorious for having full bars on Friday nights. Every student 21 and over packed in, drinking, dancing, looking for someone to go home with. All of those reasons where why John Murphy spent his Fridays at the Dropship, a dive bar two blocks off Main Street and off the college kid radar. Now that didn’t mean that he wasn’t looking to find someone to take home, or ever in need of getting plastered on a Friday night. It just meant that he acknowledged the fact that he wasn’t a college kid, or looking to hear about how hard tests were, or how fried brains were, or whatever else they complained about, he’d learned his lesson the hard way. The Dropship was more his speed, plenty of people, a chick or two to pick up when needed, and most importantly, no cover charge. He hated going to work the day after a night out with a stamp on his hand, letting everyone know where he’d been the night before.

The smacking sound of the pool balls could be heard over the jukebox music and he was at the corner of the bar scooping out the crowd. It was still early, only ten, so it was mainly the regulars, which he liked, it was comforting to recognize everyone around him. He nursed his first beer before picking up the second and making his way towards the pool tables. He knew enough of the people there to easily join in on the next game.

It was during his first game of pool that night that he saw her, all blonde curls and perfect curves. He had learned a long time ago how to read a girl by her outfit, and this girl screamed take me home. Her hair was neatly pinned over one shoulder, exposing a fair amount of neck, a form fitting dark blue dress showed every curve she had, the right amount of cleavage, and she was wearing what Murphy called Fuck Me heels. By her outfit he also knew that this bar was not her original destination. But that was what made her his perfect target for the night. Clearly she was out looking for something, and he was pretty sure he could be that something for one night.

When his game was over, and his beer was gone, she was still at the bar. He made his way towards hers, going over all the different outcomes for the night, all of them involved that dress on the floor. He wasn’t a good guy, he knew it, he never pretended to be. But he also knew that he could pretend to be whatever she needed for the night, and they could both be satisfied by sunrise and going their own way. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, coming to stand next to her, leaning his side against the bar, so he could appreciate the dress, and her breast in that dress. As his eyes racked over her body he eventually made it to her face only to be met with big blue eyes that were already glassy with alcohol and a smile that seemed almost out of place in a bar like this.

“Shots?” she asked, the one word slurred a little. Her face was flushed and she swayed sitting on her stool, one drink already in her hand.

“Sure blondie.” He laughed, he knew from that one word that she was well on her way to being trashed, making his original plan way less appealing. He might be an asshole but he wasn’t that guy. He mouthed the word water to the bartender glancing over at the girl and tapped his empty beer.

When the bartender set down the glass of water in front of her, he could see the way she glared at it before picking it up. He reached for his new beer before tipping it towards her.

“This is a glass of water, not a shot.” Her gaze fixed on him and he could feel the annoyance there.

“You’re sober enough to tell.” He was surprised. From looking at her, he was sure she was a goner.

“I’m not stupid.” She took a sip of the water, her eyes briefly closing and he wondered what thought was crossing her mind to make her facial expressions rapidly change.

“I figured you’d need the water more than a shot.” 

“You figured wrong.” She muttered slapping a crisp hundred dollar bill on the bar top, getting the bar tenders attention again. She added her ID and a credit card to the pile. “Vodka, straight, start a tab.” She told him. “I’m a really good tipper.”

He was slightly impressed with the girl in front of him, and wished for a moment that she was more sober. She was feisty, and knew what she wanted. It was hot as well, but he watched her down the clear liquid, flipping the shot glass over and waiting for another one to be poured. “Enjoy sweetheart.” He chuckled, shaking his head before heading back towards the pool tables. 

He couldn’t help but keep an eye on her as the night worn on. She floated from table to table, person to person, laughing in that extra loud way only drunk girls can, falling over her own feet, landing in strangers laps. She was like a pinball, bouncing from one table to the next, from the jukebox to the bar. With his third beer long gone, he watched her dance, arms moving, body twirling, eyes shut. She moved like there was no one there watching her, how he’d imagine she danced at home, alone. But watching her also meant keeping an eye on the frat type looking assholes that had started buying her drinks awhile back, after he assumed she’d been cut off at the bar. He wasn’t the type to hit on a drunk girl, and he’d never been a knight in shining armor before but there was something about this blonde girl. She was clearly reaching her rock bottom, and that was place that he knew better than most, and he couldn’t just let someone take advantage of her, not like this.

When the polo wearing asshat grabbed her ass attempting to dance with her, he made his move to the bar. He flagged down the bar tender he'd known for years, the one that had served him earlier in the night, Nathan Miller.

“Another beer man?” he asked.

“No, I’m closing my tab and blondies.” Murphy said shooting a glance over his shoulder at the girl, still in the arms of the frat asshat. “You got her cards man? I’m gonna make sure she gets home, and not with those fucktards.”

“You?” Miller raised an eyebrow at him. And yeah, Murphy could read the surprise on his face. Truth be told it surprised him too.

“Yeah man, look at her. She’s trashed and super hero Blake isn’t here tonight to save the day.” Murphy scuffed. “Dude I’m an asshole, but I’m not that kind of asshole.” He shot anther look over his shoulder, wanting to make sure she was still out there, and not being pulled towards the door, or the bathroom.

“Yeah man, I’ll close her out.” Miller nodded after a moment moving to the register. He came back a second later hand him his own debt card and slip to sign, along with the blonde’s card and ID. “Dude, don’t make me regret this.”  
“See if I leave a tip now.” He muttered signing the blondes slip before sliding it back to Miller. “Thanks.” He nodded before turning back around, studying the ID in his hand. Clarke Griffin, 22, 5’5”, 123 lbs, blue eyes, organ donor. But most importantly, her address, that was really all he needed to know about her.

“Clarke,” he said as he got closer, getting her attention. Her eyes were heavy, and her smile goofy when she finally looked at him.

“Me?” she sounded confused, pointing to herself.

“Yeah, come on, let’s go home.” He nodded towards the door, tapping her two cards on his hand. He wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it, getting her to leave with him.

She looked around, confused, using the frat guy to keep herself propped up. “Home?”

“Yeah, you, home.” Murphy rolled his eyes, reaching out to take her arm.

“I don’t know you.” She took a step back, falling into some other frat guys lap. “I certainly don’t know you.” She looked at the guy, his whole table laughing.

“You could.” He winked, snaking his arms around her waist.

“Maybe another night buddy.” Murphy said, stepping forward and pulling Clarke off the guy. “She’s going home.” He didn’t need to fix any of them with a hard stare, or press the matter any farther, and Clarke didn’t protest anymore, just stumbled as he helped her towards the door and out of the bar.

“You didn’t buy me a shot.” She shouted at him. “You asked if you could buy me a drink.” 

Murphy snorted. “You’re right, I got you a water, now I’m taking you home.” 

“I don’t want to go home, I want a drink.”

“I think you’ve had plenty to drink.” He fumbled getting his keys out of his pocket and keeping her upright.

“Everything is spinning.” She said falling into him even more as he pulled open the door.

“Fuck, if you puke in my truck, I swear-“ he took a deep breath looking down at the mess of a girl in his arms, eyes shut, head lolled to the side. She was passed out and he wasn’t sure if he should thank God or some shit.

It didn’t take him long to get her up into the passenger seat of his truck, and the seat belt over her. The last thing he needed was to get stopped because she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Once he had himself in the drivers seat, he typed in her address in his phone and pulled out of the parking lot. He couldn’t believe this was how he was ending his night. Taking some drunk girl home, literally. 

He’s easily found her keys in her purse, and put both her ID and card back in her wallet. He wasn’t even temped to look through her shit, which was odd to him. He was a nosy person by nature, but he couldn’t bring himself to. So instead he helped her out of his truck, into her apartment building, and into her apartment. It took him a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the change of light when he entered her place, but he quickly found her room, dropping her snoring body onto the mattress. He left her purse, phone and keys on a small entryway table, and looked around for a pen to write his number on. He knew if it was him, he would have a few questions in the morning. He found a pad of sticky notes, and a sharpie, and jotted his name and number down, sticking in on her phone before turning to leave, locking the door before it closed behind him. 

If he was honesty with himself, part of him felt good for helping her. But he was rarely that honest with anyone, let alone himself. So he went to find something to eat, a greasy  
burger from the fast food place on the main drag that is open 24/7. Sitting in his truck eating his burger he watched as the bars across the street start to close, and groups of people begin to gather, couples pairing off before heading into the night. There is nothing left for him to do tonight expect go home to his paper thin walls of his own shitty apartment. He was disappointed that his night didn’t turn out the way he had hoped for, he was really glad he made sure Clarke Griffin had gotten home and to bed, and not passed around those frat guys like some toy.

The next afternoon, when he finally pulled himself from bed he was surprised to see a voicemail from a number he didn’t recognize.

“Uh, hi, this is Clarke, Clarke Griffin. From last night. I-um-I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, I guess? I checked my bank statement and went back to the Dropship to ask about last night, and this bartender said that you took me home, wanted to make sure I got there safely. I really can’t thank you enough for that. Last night was-I was-it was a total mess, so thank you so much. I’d love to buy you a beer, or maybe a coffee. My liver may never forgive after last night. But uh-thank you again for getting me home. I really appreciate it.”


	2. Sounds Like Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Murphy friendship inspired by a song by Darryl Worley

Bellamy got the call on a Tuesday afternoon. It had been awhile since he’d seen the number flash across his screen, and even longer since he’d talk to the person on the other end of the phone. But he wasn’t going to let a mid-afternoon nap, on his first day off in months, stop him from answering his phone. That wasn’t who he was. And that wasn’t the type of friend he was.

“Hey, Emori, what’s up?” he asked, sandwiching the phone between his head and shoulder, rolling out of the bed, away from the still sleeping body.

“Bellamy, I’m really sorry to call like this, I just didn’t know who else to call.” She sounded stressed, tired, and he was sure he could hear a baby crying in the background.

“Never apologize for calling me, but first is everything okay?” he asked, already putting his shoes on. He knew that she was calling for help, and even if she wasn’t, she sounded like she could use some.

“I-I don’t really know.” She sounded defeated. “I really hate to bother you with this, but its John, I think he’s spiraling. I don’t know, I just didn’t know who else to call.” 

“No, I’m really glad you called me, and it’s not a bother at all.” Bellamy kissed the sleeping blonde head before heading towards the door for his studio apartment. “Thank you for calling me, I’ll find him.” This was the kind of friend he was, the dependable kind, the one you turn to when you don’t know what else to do.

“Thank you Bellamy, thank you.” 

He knew right where he needed to go to find John Murphy. The old dive bar had been a once time favorite place of theirs years ago, before weddings, steady jobs and real adult responsibilities had caught up to them. Nights at the bar had been replaced with grocery shopping and family dinners, parent teacher meetings, and karate class. They used to spend every weekend together, drinking, bullshitting, living. It was rare that they were able to see each other twice a month now, always pre-planned. But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t drop everything, even on his rare day off to help a friend.

It didn’t take him long to get to the Dropship, or to find Murphy sitting at the bar, alone. It being the middle of a Tuesday made for a near empty bar. As he slipped onto the stool beside him, he took note of the unopened beer bottle in front of him.

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Bellamy asked, nodding towards the bartender in greeting.

Murphy let out a struggled laugh shaking his head, running his hands through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. “I don’t even fucking know anymore.”

“Just talk man, what’s been happening since the last time I saw you?”

“Where do I even start?” he laughed, shaking his head, reaching for the bottle. “Emori’s car broke down, like beyond repair broke down. I knew it was coming too, but we haven’t had time to take it by Raven’s place. And then the fucking washer quit last week, water leaked everywhere, the whole basement. Insurance doesn’t want to cover any of it, and it’s gonna cost more than I make in a month to deal with. Nora’s cutting teeth, cries through the whole fucking night. I’ve hardly had any jobs the last two weeks, and the bills are stacking up.” 

Bellamy made no sound while he listened to Murphy, he just sat and listened, his eyes on the gentlemen in from of him. He had taken a class in college and all he had walked away with was the ability to be an excellent listener. Don’t speak, no sounds, eye contact, until you’re sure the other person is done. It had freaked a lot of people out at first, but it had made him the best listener in their friend group of the years.

He had known John Murphy most of his life. He was a local, like him, stuck in a college town, watching other people come, get an education and leave. It had been hard for them, poked at their own insecurities about with self-worth, pointed out the opportunities they were lacking. He had watched the man grow from a fuck boy into an asshole of an adult, and couldn’t be more proud of the man he had become, the life he chose. He’d married an amazing girl that was able to put up with his bullshit, they had three cute as hell kids, and despite the feeling of being nothing in a college town, he’d made a name for himself. He’d become a small business owner, doing handy work around the area. He became a certified plumber, and before the last baby was born, he’d also become a certified electrician. He’d really grown up.

“I know you’re not gonna to wanna hear this, but I’m gonna say it anyways.” Bellamy reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Sounds like life to me.”  
Murphy shrugged his arm off him and scuffed. “Not helpful.” He rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m serious, hear me out.” He laughed. “Life’s no fantasy, and the way you’re talking is like you’re stuck in some lifetime tragedy movie shit, and not just a common case of reality. Things aren’t always going to be prefect, you know that better than anyone. So you’re having a down period, things will get back on track.”

“No man, you don’t understand.” His face was tinted red in anger, “I’m one man, three kids and a wife. She can’t go back to work yet, not with Nora. And the fucking cherry, she’s two months late.”

“Bartender,” Bellamy shouted, clapping Murphy on the back. He knew when his friend was drowning in the negative, he needed to be the positive. “We need a round, we’re celebrating.” 

Murphy just stared at him, and all Bellamy could do is smile at him. He would smile until Murphy cracked, and he knew deep down that he was excited about the idea of another baby. Before he never would have pegged Murphy for the dad type, but the first time Emori had gotten everyone had seen a new side of Murphy, a softer side.

“Man, I know life is tough, but you gotta suck it up!” 

“Jesus, what are you even doing here?” he asked.

“Emori called, she was worried.” Bellamy told him as the new beers appeared in front of them, joining their unopened ones. “And I can see why.”

“I can’t believe she called you.” He muttered.

“Why, you wanna have Raven come kick your sorry ass instead of a pep talk from me?”

“Man, I just-“ he stopped himself shaking his head.

Bellamy could tell that he didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t some easy fix to life’s problems. He knew that, Murphy knew that, Emori knew that he knew that. But they all knew that sometimes he just needed a friend. Someone to sit at the bar with him and not try to fix his problems, and maybe the pep talk was a good thing.

“I know things are tough right now, you’ve got a lot going on. But it’s just life, I swear.”

“Yeah, man, I know.” Murphy nodded his head tilting the bottle towards his friend. “Thanks for coming, for picking up.”

“Don’t mention it man, for you I’d live in space for six years.” He winked at Murphy, finally getting a smile from the man. That was the sign that Bellamy needed to know that he truly was okay, that he did really know this was just a down period. 

“What the hell are you doing in the middle of a work day, here, anyways?” Murphy asked after a moment of silence. Bellmay knew that his friend was going to be okay, redirecting any and all conversation away from him and his own melt down.

“Day off, Emori called, and I came.” Bellamy shrugged, thinking about what exactly he had left.

“Day off?” Murphy questioned with a snort. Taking time off wasn't something Bellamy did often. “You?” 

“Yeah, I was taking a nap. So if it makes you feel any better you owe me a good nap.” Bellamy laughed.

“Not unless there was a naked girl in your bed.” He laughed. Bellamy knew what his friends thought. He rarely dated. In fact he had just gotten out of a three year relationship with someone just a few weeks ago. So he knew that they were all waiting for his pattern of one night stands of casual hook ups to start again.

“Well actually…” Bellamy didn’t turn to look at Murphy, but could hear him choking on his beer.

“Wait, what?” he asked. “Tell me you didn’t leave a naked girl in your bed because my wife called you?”

“She isn’t naked.”

“Echo?” Murphy asked and Bellamy could hear the underlining disappointment in his voice.

“No, she still isn’t speaking to me and I don’t blame her.” Bellamy shook his head.

“So are you going to tell me who you left in your bed?”

“Clarke Griffin.” Bellamy spoke slowly, turning this time to watch his friends eyes open wide, as he actually spit some of his beer back out in surprise. 

“Clar-My Clarke?” Murphy asked.

“I don’t think she’s yours Murphy. And I really don’t think she’d appreciate you calling her yours.” 

“She most certainly is.” He slapped his hand down on the bar, and for a second Bellamy couldn’t tell if he was going to be angry or not. “Jesus, fuck. Bellamy, I mean seriously?” he shook his head. “I introduced the two of you six years ago!”

Happy, he was definably happy, Bellamy decided. And he knew what Murphy was referring to. Clarke had been the person that had helped him turn his life around. Murphy claims it was tit for tat. He saved her, she helped him. But Bellamy had watched the two interact with each other, and he knew they were more like siblings than either would ever admit. 

“Fuck, what the hell are you doing here?” he shoved Bellamy off the bar stool. “She’s back at your place, in your bed, get the hell outta here.” He pointed towards the door.  
Bellamy chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his wallet out. Now that Murphy seemed more like Murphy, he knew he could leave with peace of mind. He put a couple of bills down on the bar top. “She’s still gonna be passed out asleep when I get back, I’m not too worried.”

“Did you fucking drug her? I swear to god Bellamy, if you drugged the girl I saved in this very bar, I’m going to kill you myself.” Yup, the Murphy he knew was back.

“She worked all night, calm down.” He told him as the two made their way out of the bar. Bellamy couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was life, its ups and down, with every twist and turn imaginable. He wouldn’t trade it or change it for anything.


	3. Break Up In The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke
> 
> She'd do it all over again even knowing the outcome.
> 
> Break Up In The End by Cole Swindell

Lexa could feel her stomach clench, a sign that she was doing something that made her nervous, and there wasn’t much that made her feel that way. A large part of herself doubted what she was about to do. But she knew that it was the right thing, what she needed to do, for her, for herself.

She took a deep breath, trying to relax her muscles when she heard the lock in the front door click. She swept her eyes around the perfectly decorated apartment. She remembered coming home from a long day of classes to find her posters and second hand couch gone, replaced by things that didn’t feel very college, more sophisticated, adult, it was all sharp angles, leather, darker colors than she grew up with her in childhood home. Clarke had told her it was a gift from her mother, to make up for the way she made them feel about being together.

Dinner with Clarke’s mother hadn’t gone smooth, not that she had expected it to. Lexa knew that the two Griffin women had a rocky relationship to start with. In the months they had been together before meeting Abby Griffin Lexa wasn’t sure Clarke had spoken to her more than twice. But she did know that she hadn’t seen her mother during the start of their relationship.

_“Mom, this is Lexa.” Clarke introduced them on the doorstep of the house. “My girlfriend.” _

_Lexa watched as Abby’s eyes widen just a fraction before she turned to her with a tight smile and nodded. “It’s lovely to meet you Lexa. I wish I could say that I’ve heard about you, but Clarke rarely returns my calls.”_

_The jabs were there, all night, hidden in backhanded comments, interwoven in the conversation, and it left Lexa feeling itchy. Abby Griffin had no issues making her true feelings known without actually saying it._

“Lexa?” Clarke’s cheery voice brought her back to the present, to the boxes packed in her car, the empty drawers in the bedroom. “What are you doing back so early?”

“I took the day off Clarke.” Lexa keep her voice even, her expression blank, it was a skill she had mastered as a child.

“You?” Clarke laughed, folding her arms in front of her, leaning her hip on the door frame.

“Clarke, sit down.” Lexa nodded towards the black leather chair that matched the couch.

Clarke let out a nervous chuckle, looking at the chair, then back at Lexa. She took two small steps into the room before stopping herself. “What’s going on?” her eyes narrowing as she took in the suitcase next to Lexa.

Lexa sighed, looking down at her hands. There wasn’t an easy way to explain this, not to Clarke and she knew that. But she also knew that if anyone would understand, it’d be Clarke. The two of them had their ups and downs but they knew each other better than anyone else. Looking back up at the blonde, it was almost like their whole relationship started to flash before her eyes.

_Lexa laughed loudly as she walked into the bar, two of her friends in tow. They had pre-gamed at her apartment before venturing out into the night. She knew that she was already a little on the drunk side, but she wasn’t where she wanted to be, not yet at least. _

_The Dropship was their favorite bar in the college town, mainly locals, no flashing lights, pool tables with people always welcoming new players. They had been going long enough that they were treated like regulars and knew most of people in the bar on a Saturday night. _

_As the small group of three made their way to the bar, Lexa couldn’t help but notice the curve blonde sitting by herself, an open space next to her, which was soon filled with the three of them._

_“Three rum and cokes.” Ayana ordered, pounding in the bar top, smiling at the bartender that was awaiting their approach._

_“Coming up.” The man said nodding his head before turning his attention to making the drinks._

_“Looks pretty dead in here.” Gia commented, turning around to look at the pool tables. “We could have stayed at the apartment and drank.” _

_“Where’s the fun in that?” Lexa asked shooting a smile at the blonde, who she could tell was side eyeing them._

_“I’m gonna see if we can get in on the next game.” Gia said before pushing off the bar and leaving the group._

_“Start a tab, I see an interesting prospect.” Anaya winked before leaving her as well._

_Lexa smiled watching her friends before turning to the blonde. “I’m Lexa.” She slid a little closer. She knew better than to assume that every pretty girl she came across was going to be interested in her, but she also couldn’t help but be a shameless flirt when she was already four drinks into her night. “What’s your name?”_

_The blonde turned, eyeing her for a second, and giving Lexa a moment to take her in. Her bright blue eyes were filled with something that looked almost like sadness, and Lexa wanted nothing more than to wash that away. Her lips were glossy, and she wondered what they tasted like, cherry or strawberry. Her long blonde locks were held back in a lose braid that was coming undone._

_“Clarke.” The blonde offered, a small, polite smile tugging her lips up._

_“And what are you drinking Clarke?” Lexa was bold, she always had been, and meeting a new person didn’t change that. She reached for the glass in front of her, and brought it to her mouth, smirking at the surprised look on the blondes face. But the joke was on her as she swallowed the liquid, coughing a little._

_“Water.” Clarke smirked, reaching to take her glass back. _

_Lexa laughed, giving the girl a bright smile. “That’s a first.”_

_“You often steal stranger’s drinks?”_

_“Only if they are really pretty.” Lexa had long forgotten the three glasses that had been set down in front of her as her conversation with Clarke started to pick up. She found the girl smart, witty, and unbelievably refreshing. The girl spoke as though she wore her heart on her sleeve and yet she was so guarded at the same time. It was like a challenge she couldn’t turn away from._

_As the night worn on, Lexa no longer doubted Clarke’s interests, the girl flirted back just as much. So when the lights flashed twice, signaling last call, Lexa had no hesitation to pull Clarke in for a kiss. It was gentle at first, lips pressed together, her hands moved to Clarkes hips, while Clarke ran hers up to Lexa’s hair, pulling her closer, changing the pace of the kiss. Clarke opened her mouth, allowing Lexa to explore, to take the kiss deeper. And what a sweet kiss it was._

_When the two finally parted for air, Lexa pushed a strand of hair back behind Clarke’s ear, the other hand still on her waist. “Come home with me.” She told her, it wasn’t a request, Lexa was taking her home and she knew that she was going to need more than a night with her._

_That was the beginning of a fast paced relationship. The two quickly became inseparable. Clarke was a fixture at Lexa’s car. Her music blasted Lexa’s speakers until it too became Lexa’s music. Articles of clothing no longer had a single owner, but were interchangeable. Medical journals started to collect themselves on Lexa’s night stand, Clarke switched to Lexa’s all natural beauty product line. They easily fell into each other, in love with each other. _

_It only took a few weeks before Lexa was introducing Clarke to her parents. She knew that Clarke was nervous, that her own parents weren’t as understanding, and that she had a harder time wrapping her head around the relationship Lexa had with her parents. Lexa’s parents has raised her in an open environment, in a world where she never had to hide who she was, what she thought, or how she felt. _

_So it was strange to her to sit in the house she grew up in, taking in the misplaced looks on her parents faces. She was itching to figure out what exactly had placed those tight smiles on their faces, the forced laughs. She was relieved when Clarke excused herself to the bathroom, waiting until she head the door click shut to face her parents. _

_“Yes?” she asked._

_“She seems very nice dear.” Her mother offered. _

_“Nice?” that was rarely a word her other used to describe things. “I’ll ask again, and I’d like the truth this time.”_

_“She’s a lovely girl, we just thought you were sticking to your plan.” Her dad offered._

_Lexa relaxed slightly at their words. “I didn’t expect to fall in love yet, I wasn’t looking for it. But it happened.”_

_“Love?” her mothers eyebrows shot up, gripping the arm of the chair. “Honey, please.”_

_“What?” Lexa asked._

_“She’s a great girl, but love?” her mother’s laugh as soft. “Don’t be ridiculous.” _

_“I think this is anything but ridiculous.” Lexa looked at both parents. “Clarke and I are in love, we’re moving in together.”_

_“You barely know this girl.” Her father spoke softly._

_“I know enough.” Lexa was quick to the defense. “She’s amazing, we’re amazing.”_

_“I’m sure she is, but the plan, your plan.” Her mother shook her head. _

_“Lexa, dear, we just don’t want to see you get off track, you’ve worked so hard, and are so close to graduating.”_

_“My life isn’t going to go off track because I met someone.” Lexa whispered back harshly when she head the bathroom door open up. _

Thinking about that day now, Lexa scoffed at herself. She was blinded by love, and if truth be told, part of her still was. But she knew that in her heart she was making the correct choice. Her career, her plan had to come first, just like Clarke’s needed to for her.

“Lexa, what’s going on?” Clarke asked, spinning the watch on her wrist, a nervous tick she had picked up long before Lexa had come into the picture.

“I’m leaving.” Lexa spoke slowly, her words hanging in the air around them. She watched at the confusion washed over Clarke’s face. “I accepted an intern position in D.C.. I’m going.”

“When?” Clarke asked after long moment of silence. She knew that there were other questions running through the blondes mind, but Clarke had always been really good at keeping her emotions in check, and rarely talked about her feelings, even with Lexa.

“Today, now.”

“And you waited until the last minute to tell me?” Clarke asked pushing herself up, moving to pace around the room.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you.” Lexa told her. “I’m sorry. But I truly think it’s for the best thing for me, for you, us.”

Clarke stopped, her hand partially raised to comb through her hair, the other wrapped around her stomach. “You’re breaking up with me?” she whispered.

“We’re moving in two different directions Clarke, it’s time.” Lexa stood up. She knew that there wasn’t much more she could say, before it would end up in an argument.

As she stood looking into the shiny blue eyes of the blonde she debated with herself. Should she kiss her once more? Tell her that she loves her? Could she tell her that she would do it all over again, even knowing they’d break up in the end?

No, she couldn’t do any of those things. All she was able to do was offer a small smile, before making her way past the woman. She stopped at the door, looking back at Clarke, whose eyes had followed her, brows raised in surprise.

“Good bye Clarke Griffin, may we meet again.”


End file.
